Endings
by JanetD
Summary: This is a story about Ryan and his brother Trey.
1. Chapter One

**Title:** Endings (1/2)  
**Date Written:** 8/25/03  
**Author: **JanetD  
**Rating:** PG-13 (strong language)  
**Summary:** This is a story about Ryan and his brother Trey.  
**Author's Notes:** This story takes place approximately two months after Ryan has joined the Cohen household. His brother Trey is serving time in prison for stealing the car that night with Ryan, as well as for drug and gun offenses.  
**Disclaimer:** This is a work of fiction. The characters in this story are borrowed from the TV show "The O.C.". No money is being made from this story. Any resemblance of a character in this story to any real person living or dead is purely coincidental. Likewise, any resemblance between an organization depicted in this story and any such actual organization is purely coincidental.   
  
The Cohen family was just finishing up dinner. There was a lull in the conversation, and into the silence Ryan said, It's Trey's birthday this weekend. I thought I'd like to go and see him. Sandy and Kirsten exchanged a concerned glance, remembering how disastrously Ryan's last jailhouse visit with his brother had ended.  
  
Kirsten said, He's up in...  
  
Sandy said, finishing the sentence for her. It's, what, an hour-and-a-half or two-hour drive? Sure, Ryan, I could take you up there. We can go on Saturday.  
  
Ryan smiled his gratitude.  
  
I tell you what, I'll call the prison today and find out about visiting hours. He paused, then added. I suppose you were thinking about getting Trey something for his birthday?   
  
Ryan nodded.   
  
Well, maybe Kirsten can take you shopping after school today.  
  
Kirsten agreed pleasantly.  
  
Ryan replied.  
  
There was a small silence, and then Sandy said, So, it's going to be Trey's birthday. How old will he be?   
  
  
  
Kirsten and Sandy exchanged another glance--in prison and just turning twenty-one; the kid's life was over before it had even gotten started.  
  
----+----  
  
Later that night as Kirsten and Sandy lay curled together in bed, Kirsten asked worriedly, Do you think it's a good idea? Ryan going to see Trey? You remember what happened last time.  
  
Sandy wrapped his arm around his wife and pulled her closer. Trey's his brother, honey. We can't keep him from seeing his brother. It wouldn't be right.  
  
I know, but--  
  
Don't worry. Nothing's going to happen. Trey's in prison, remember? It's not like he can snatch Ryan or do him any harm. All he can do is talk to him.  
  
Kirsten thought for a second. Well, at least promise me you won't leave Ryan alone with him, okay? I want to make sure you hear everything that boy says to him.  
  
All right, if it will make you feel better...  
  
It will.   
  
Then it's a done deal.   
  
Feeling somewhat reassured, Kirsten allowed herself to relax into her husband's embrace, and closed her eyes.  
  
----+----  
  
Ryan and Sandy were in the car on their way to the state prison in Lancaster. As Ryan stared out the window, he thought about the last time he'd seen his older brother. It had been a day or two after his mother had abandoned him. He'd asked Mr. Cohen to take him to visit Trey in the county jail, and Sandy had agreed. Now, as Ryan watched the brown blur of scenery pass by, he replayed the painful encounter in his head...   
  
(two months earlier)  
  
When Ryan and Sandy walked into the visitor's room at the county jail, Trey was sitting there waiting for them. He wore an orange jumpsuit. His hair was mussed, and he was still wearing the ring in his eyebrow that had been there the night of his arrest. He looked up expectantly as Ryan and Sandy entered.  
  
Sandy hung back while Ryan took a seat across from his brother.  
  
Hey, Rye, said Trey. Then flicking his eyes to where Sandy stood several feet away, he asked, Who's that?  
  
That's Mr. Cohen. He's my lawyer.  
  
Then Trey noticed the bruises around Ryan's left eye and the split lip. He gestured with a hand, and said Where'd you get those? The cops didn't rough you up, did they?  
  
No, no. I, uh, I got in a fight with a couple assholes. I'm okay.  
  
Yeah? Well I hope you gave them as good as you got, Ryan. I can't have people thinking my brother got beat up by a couple jack-offs.  
  
No, I...I did okay.  
  
That seemed to satisfy Trey, and he changed the subject. he said, a note of accusation creeping into his voice, I see you got out. The old lady didn't come through for me. She told my PD I could rot in here for all she cared... The bitch!  
  
So, you haven't seen her? Ryan asked, anxious to hear his brother's reply.  
  
No, I just told you. She screwed me over.  
  
She's gone, Trey.  
  
What do you mean,   
  
She took off. Mr. Cohen got me out of jail on Friday and that afternoon Mom kicked me out of the house. I didn't have anywhere to go, so Mr. Cohen took me in.... Then on Sunday when he took me back home, the house was empty. Everything was gone; Mom had moved out.  
  
Trey snorted in disgust. What a worthless bitch. Shit... She didn't leave a note, or anything?  
  
Hearing his brother's question brought the pain of that moment back forcefully to Ryan---the deserted house, the damning note. He struggled to keep the emotion out of his voice, as he answered. She left a note, but it just said she was fed up with both of us, and couldn't take it anymore...that she and A.J. were going to make a fresh start. And...she said she, she was sorry...  
  
Sorry, huh? I bet.... So, where are you now? They put you in some crappy children's home?  
  
No...not yet anyway. The Cohens are letting me stay with them for a few days, but if Mom doesn't show up soon, they'll have to turn me over to Children's Services.  
  
Trey shook his head again. That's a tough break, bro. You, stuck in fucking foster care while I'm stuck here.... You know, I had my lawyer call Jo-Jo and Kevin and a few other of my buds, but nobody's willing to pony-up the bail money for me to get out of this shithole. He gave Ryan a penetrating look. What about you, Rye? You got any money stashed away?  
  
Ryan's regret showed in his voice. No. I'm sorry, Trey.  
  
Trey glanced over at Sandy speculatively. Well, what about this new lawyer pal of yours? Maybe you can get the money from him?  
  
The younger boy looked pained. I can't do that, Trey. I can't ask Mr. Cohen for that kind of money.  
  
Yeah, well, Trey said dismissively, with his job he probably doesn't have two cents to rub together anyway. Ryan didn't bother to correct his brother's misimpression.   
  
Suddenly a sly look came over Trey's face, and he leaned in closer to his brother in a conspiratorial fashion. Look, Ryan, I know how you can get the cash. You know Kieser's Pawn Shop on Fifth? Well, go in there and ask for Marty. Tell him you're my brother. He can fix you up with a cheap piece. Then tonight, at closing time, you hold up that liquor store on Washington Ave. I hear it's an easy mark.  
  
Ryan stared at his brother in stunned disbelief, but tried to keep his voice low as he replied. Are you nuts, Trey?! I can't hold up a liquor store to get you bail money.   
  
Trey's expression turned ugly, and he slammed the flat of his hand down hard against the table top. The sound brought Sandy to full attention. He had been leaning against a wall trying to give the brothers some privacy, but now he straightened, and looked hard at Trey. He heard the older boy's voice rise angrily, as he said, I always knew you were a gutless little bitch, Ryan. I guess you're proving me right.   
  
Trey stood up, and Sandy moved forward, not sure what the younger man intended. But Trey made no threatening move toward his brother, just stood there, shaking his head in disgust. Then he yelled at Ryan, Get out of here! You hear me? Get the hell out! I don't want to see you back here again, you worthless little piece of shit!!  
  
Ryan sat speechless, his face reflecting his shock and distress. Sandy moved up and laid a hand on his shoulder. Come on, Ryan. Let's go.  
  
Sandy led the way out of the room. As they approached the doorway, Ryan cast one last glance at his brother. Trey stared back at him with palpable anger. Ryan paused, and it took Sandy laying a gentle hand on his back to get him moving again. Then they were through the doorway, leaving the furious Trey behind them.  
  
As Ryan and Sandy emerged from the jail into the parking lot, Sandy asked, What happened back there, Ryan? Why did Trey blow up like that?  
  
Ryan didn't respond, so Sandy tried again. Come on. Tell me. What set him off?  
  
Ryan's earlier look of shock and dismay had disappeared. Now his face looked hard as he said flatly, He wanted me to rob a liquor store to get him money for bail.  
  
Now it was Sandy's turn to stare in shock. He shook his head in disbelief, and then led the way to the car without another word.  
  
----+----  
  
It was almost noon when Sandy and Ryan reached the prison in Lancaster. They made their way through successive security stations and endured multiple security checks. It all went more quickly than Sandy had expected, and they were soon seated at an empty table in the large visitor's room. Two plastic bags sat at Ryan's feet. They contained the items he'd brought for Trey. The contents had been carefully inspected--twice--and had been judged as falling within the guidelines covering a prisoner's personal effects. Glancing around, Ryan realized that about half the tables were occupied by visitors and the family members or friends they were there to see. There were wives and girlfriends, parents, and children.   
  
Ryan wondered idly if anybody else was here visiting their brother, like he was. He was a little apprehensive about what kind of reception he might receive from Trey. After all, his mother had told him that Trey had refused to see her, and he and Trey hadn't exactly parted on good terms last time. But Ryan also knew that though his brother's anger flared up easily and burned brightly, it usually dissipated just as quickly. Not that Trey wasn't capable of holding a grudge--he was--but Ryan didn't think that would be the case here.   
  
Ryan musings were interrupted by the sight of Trey being escorted into the room. His brother was wearing the same outfit as the rest of the prisoners--a pair of jeans and a lightweight, short-sleeved denim shirt with California State Penitentiary emblazoned on both front and back. It had been more than two months since Ryan had seen his brother, and the only change he could really detect was that Trey's hair was a little longer than the last time they'd met.   
  
Trey spotted Ryan, and smiled. Coming forward, he slipped effortlessly into the seat across from his brother. He glanced once at Sandy, then seeming to decide to ignore his presence, he turned his full attention to his brother, and said with good humor, Ryan, you little shit, how ya doin'?  
  
Ryan smiled. Fine, Trey. How about you? They treating you okay?  
  
Trey shrugged. Can't complain. You know how it is in these places, Ryan. If you've got brains, you make out okay. And I've got brains.  
  
Ryan nodded.  
  
Trey said, glancing at Sandy before continuing, I got a letter from Mom. She told me you're going to live with those people in Newport Beach from now on.  
  
Ryan felt embarrassed by how his brother was so obviously ignoring Sandy's presence, and quickly added, This is Mr. Cohen. You remember him, don't you?  
  
Trey gave Sandy an appraising look, and then said without warmth, Yeah, I remember him. He offered no other greeting, and Ryan ducked his head in chagrin. But Sandy only's reaction was mild amusement at the snub.  
  
Trey turned back to Ryan. So, I guess you lucked out, little brother. You must be living on Easy Street in a place like Newport Beach. Then with the slightest note of concern in his voice, he asked, They're treating you all right, aren't they, Rye?  
  
Yeah, they treat me fine, Trey. I--he shot a look at Sandy--I'm happy there.  
  
Well, that's something.  
  
There was a pause and then Ryan said, Oh, I almost forgot. He reached down for one of the plastic bags on the floor, and picked it up. Here. Happy birthday, Trey.  
  
Ryan handed the bag across the table to his brother. Four or five CDs and a boxed CD player could be seen through the transparent plastic. Trey opened the bag, and looked through the contents.   
  
Thanks, man. These are great. He looked at Ryan. I don't suppose you thought to bring me any smokes?  
  
Ryan smiled triumphantly, and produced the second bag. A carton of cigarettes could be seen inside.  
  
You rock, man, his brother said happily. These I can really use.  
  
The brothers talked for another ten or fifteen minutes, and then seemed to run out of conversation. As the silence began to stretch to an uncomfortable length, Ryan said, Well, we should probably go. It was good seeing you, Trey.  
  
His brother stood up. Yeah, good seeing you too, Rye. He gestured to the bags on the table. Thanks for coming, and for this stuff.  
  
Ryan nodded, and he and Sandy got to their feet. Take care of yourself, okay? Ryan said.  
  
No worries, little bro.  
  
  
  
See ya, Ryan.  
  
With that, Ryan and Sandy made their exit.  
  
End Chapter One


	2. Chapter Two

**Title:** Endings (2/2)  
**Date Written:** 8/27/03  
**Author: **JanetD  
**Rating:** PG (language)  
**Summary:** This is a story about Ryan and his brother Trey.  
**Author's Notes:** In this story, Ryan is no longer living in the pool house, but has moved into a bedroom upstairs in the main house.  
**Disclaimer:** This is a work of fiction. The characters in this story are borrowed from the TV show "The O.C.". No money is being made from this story. Any resemblance of a character in this story to any real person living or dead is purely coincidental. Likewise, any resemblance between an organization depicted in this story and any such actual organization is purely coincidental.  
  
It was 1:30 on a Monday afternoon. Sandy Cohen was at work in his office, studying his notes for an upcoming case. The phone rang and he picked it up.  
  
  
  
Mr. Cohen, Dawn Atwell is on the phone for you. Should I put her through?  
  
Sure, Corie. Thanks.  
  
It had been four weeks since Sandy had last talked to Ryan's mother. He had called her a couple days after he and Ryan had gone to visit Ryan's brother Trey at the state prison in Lancaster. Although Dawn had given up her legal rights to her son, Sandy still thought it was a good idea to keep her apprised of how Ryan was doing. And since Dawn seemed to want the same thing, Sandy had made it a point to call Dawn whenever anything significant happened in Ryan's life. For instance, he had phoned her after Ryan's first week of school to let her know that Ryan seemed to be adjusting okay.  
  
  
  
Hi Dawn. How are you? He heard a sharp intake of breath.   
  
Oh, God, something terrible has happened.  
  
What, what is it?  
  
It's Trey. He...he was killed this morning.  
  
Oh, God. I'm sorry.... What happened?  
  
Dawn was obviously crying now. He was stabbed to death by another inmate. They told me that Trey and this man named, uh, Matthews didn't get along. They said there'd been bad blood between them for weeks now, and this morning, they, they got into a fight. She paused, and drew a long, shaky breath. This bastard Matthews had some kind of homemade knife, and he stabbed my boy. He stabbed him.   
  
I'm so sorry, Dawn. Is there anything I can do?  
  
When she didn't answer, Sandy said, I'm sorry, just, just take a minute to pull yourself together. I can wait.   
  
I think I'm okay now, Dawn said after a moment.  
  
Well, is there anything I can do for you? I guess you'll want to come over to the house tonight and tell Ryan.  
  
Ah, I, I was actually hoping you could tell him for me, Sandy. I just can't. I can't be the one to tell Ryan that his brother is dead. She sniffed audibly.  
  
Okay. I'll tell him. He thought for a minute. Can you think of anything else I need to know about what happened? For instance, I think Ryan may want to know if they got Trey to the prison hospital before he died.  
  
No, they didn't. They told me that he, that he died before any help could arrive.... Those bastards...what kind of a place are they running where something like this can happen? I should sue their asses off! She paused. I could do that, couldn't I, Sandy...sue them?  
  
Sandy was a bit taken aback, but answered her question. Yes, you could sue the state corrections system for wrongful death'.  
  
Could you help me with that?  
  
No, I'm sorry. I'm not that kind of a lawyer.  
  
  
  
Dawn, have you given any thought yet to the funeral arrangements?  
  
Well, when I told the people at the prison that I didn't have the money to pay for a funeral they told me that Trey could be buried in the prison graveyard, at their expense.  
  
Sandy hated the idea of Ryan's brother ending up in a cemetery connected with the prison. He didn't know how likely Ryan would be to visit his brother's grave site in years to come, but if he had the inclination, Sandy would prefer that there not be anything about the experience to remind Ryan of how and where his brother had died.   
  
Thinking rapidly, he said, Look, Dawn, maybe we could help you with the funeral expenses.  
  
Dawn was taken aback. Oh, I don't know. I mean, you're already doing so much for Ryan...  
  
I'd like to help, and I'm sure Kirsten would agree with me. That way Trey could be buried in a cemetery closer to you and Ryan.  
  
Well, if you're sure.... Then...thanks. I really appreciate the help.   
  
Dawn and Sandy talked for a little while longer. Then seeing the time, Sandy made his apologies. He was due in court.  
  
Walking out of his office, he dialed Kirsten on the cell phone. He quickly filled her in on what had happened. She expressed her shock and dismay, and then asked So, are you going to go pick up Ryan from school, and tell him now, or?...  
  
No, I can't. I'm headed to court, and I probably won't be out until after three. I thought I'd just try to be at the house about the time the boys get home from school.  
  
Okay. I'll see if I can get away too.   
  
This was followed by a few seconds of shared silence, and then Kirsten said, Oh, Sandy...poor Ryan.  
  
I know. It's not like the kid hasn't had enough bad breaks, now this.  
  
Well, I'll see you at home. Love you.  
  
Love you too.  
  
----+----  
  
Ryan and Seth were in the family room, deep in conversation about the latest episode of Robot Wars when they heard the front door open. Both boys looked up in surprise. It wasn't quite 4:00, and it was rare for either Kirsten or Sandy to arrive home before 5:30 or 6:00. In a couple seconds they saw Sandy walking down the hall toward them.  
  
Hi, boys.  
  
Hi, Dad, Seth said. What are you doing home?  
  
Oh, well, I just finished up a little early today. What's going on with you two?  
  
Seth proceeded to give him the gist of the argument he and Ryan had been having about whether the wheels used on the killer bot in Robot Wars were legal, or not.   
  
In a few minutes, they heard the front door open to admit Kirsten. As she entered the family room, she and Sandy exchanged a glance.   
  
Ryan, we need to talk, Sandy said.   
  
What about? Ryan asked with apprehension. He had picked up the vibe that had passed between the two adults. And that combined with the fact that they were both home early made him anxious to learn what was going on.  
  
Sandy sighed. It's your brother, Ryan. Trey was killed this morning in a fight with another prisoner. Your mother called me a couple hours ago with the news. I'm sorry.  
  
Ryan looked stunned. His eyes begin to glisten. The three Cohens looked on helplessly.   
  
What happened? Ryan asked at last in a stricken voice.  
  
Apparently, Trey and a man named Matthews had some kind of running dispute. They got into it this morning, and Matthews stabbed Trey with a shiv. He died before they could get him medical help.... I'm so sorry, Ryan.  
  
Ryan sat still, absorbing the awful news. As tears began to spill from his eyes, he reached up a hand to wipe them away. Then he stood up.   
  
Thanks for telling me, he said. Kirsten started toward him, but Ryan made the slightest shake of his head to warn her off. Then he turned, and headed rapidly for the stairs.   
  
Seth started to follow, but his father called him back. I think he wants to be alone, Seth. We should respect that.  
  
----+----  
  
Ryan lay on his bed, and let the tears come. Trey was dead. Dead. Ryan felt like a huge hole had been punched through his heart. He knew that nobody could ever claim that his brother had been a model human being. He was a blowheart and could be a bully, and he thought stealing was an acceptable way to get payback for what the world had never given him, but he was his brother--his only brother, and Ryan loved him.   
  
Ryan put his arm across his eyes to block out the light, and and sifted through his memories of his brother. When Ryan was little, Trey used to like to carry him around the house. Their favorite game was for Trey to carry his little brother into the bedroom, toss him onto the bed, and then bounce up and down beside him. That always brought the younger boy to fits of giggles.  
  
Ryan remembered how when they got older, and their dad started drinking more heavily, the least little thing would set him off. If Ryan happened to make their father mad, Trey would try to intercept him before he could lay his hands on Ryan. Unfortunately, Ryan reflected, this usually ended up in a beating for both boys, rather than just one for himself.  
  
And as the years passed, things continued to go downhill for his brother. Trey got arrested for the first time at sixteen, when he tried to boost a car. He dropped out of school, and began hanging out with a bad crowd. It wasn't long before he was in jail for holding up a convenience store. And the offenses just kept piling up--one by one--after that.  
  
Then three years ago their dad had gone to prison for armed robbery, and Ryan's mom had moved the family from Fresno to Chino. Ryan had thought that maybe things would be different then. That with Dad gone, Trey might straighten up, try to be the man of the house. But his brother had continued to get into trouble. And to top it all off, Mom had acquired a live-in boyfriend, and he and Trey hadn't gotten along. Shortly after that, Trey had moved out of the house, and Ryan was left alone to deal with his mother's problems and what was to become a string of abusive boyfriends.  
  
Almost three months ago now, Trey had come by his mom's house, and taken Ryan out for a burger. Afterwards, they sat in the park and smoked--Ryan a cigarette, Trey a joint. Ryan would have joined his brother in the toke, but marijuana always gave him a headache.  
  
Eventually, Trey said, Come on, Rye. It's time I taught you a thing or two. Follow me.   
  
He led Ryan to his car, and they drove to a more industrial part of the city. They cruised around for a while, and then passed an old Camero sitting alone on a deserted street.   
  
That'll do, Trey said cryptically.   
  
He drove around the corner, and parked. He and Ryan got out, and Trey walked around the back to get something out of the trunk. It was a tire iron. Ryan looked at the tool in his brother's hand, and understanding dawned. He knew now what it was Trey planned to teach him.   
  
I don't think this is a good idea, Trey, he protested.  
  
Trey scoffed. Don't be a wuss, Ryan. You got some other kind of trade you're planning on taking up? Come on.  
  
Trey began to walk down the empty street, and Ryan had reluctantly followed. They rounded the corner, and saw the Camero directly ahead. The boys began to scope out the car, while also making sure there was nobody else around. Trey led the way to the driver's side of the car.   
  
I'm your big brother, he said. If I don't teach you this, who will? Raising the tire iron, he smashed out the window, as Ryan recoiled back. Unlocking and opening the door, Trey slid into the front seat.  
  
I don't know, Trey, Ryan said anxiously.  
  
Quit being a little bitch. Get in!  
  
Ryan slammed the driver's door in frustration, and then ran around to the other side of the car. Just as he was about to climb in he saw a police car pass by on the cross-street behind them. Trey was still yelling at him to get in, but Ryan hesitated, and in a few seconds, he saw the cruiser reversing back down the road, lights flashing.  
  
Come on, let's go, Ryan! Trey yelled. He began to accelerate away from the curb, and Ryan had to run along side the car in order to be able to get inside.  
  
Ryan recalled that that had been the start of what turned out to be a very short car chase. The Camero had ended up smashed against the side of a power utility box, and he had made his first trip to jail--only to meet Sandy Cohen, and have his whole life change for the better.  
  
Ryan rolled over on the bed. He had stopped crying at some point, but now he really needed to blow his nose. He got up and headed for the bathroom. He flipped on the light, grabbed a tissue, and blew. Afterwards, he stood and stared at himself in the mirror. His eyes and nose were a little red, but other than that, he looked the same as he had that morning. But the mirror lied. He wasn't the same, he was more alone in the world now. His mother had given him up. His father was in prison. And now his brother--his only sibling--was dead. He still had the Cohens--and they were great-- but that couldn't assuage this painful ache in his gut.   
  
----+----  
  
It was about 6:30, and Ryan was still up in his room with the door closed. Kirsten had just finished making dinner, and had prepared a tray for the grief-stricken boy. As she walked by the living room she said to her husband and son, Dinner's ready. I'm just going to take a tray up to Ryan. I'll be right back.  
  
Sandy nodded, and Kirsten proceeded upstairs. When she got to Ryan's door, she listened for a moment. Then, hearing nothing, she knocked.   
  
Ryan, I brought you up some dinner.  
  
After a few seconds she heard his muffled reply. Thanks, Kirsten, but I'm not hungry.  
  
You ought to eat, Ryan. But I can understand if you don't feel like it right now. I'll just leave the tray here by the door, in case you change your mind.  
  
Ryan heard Kirsten leave, and after a minute, got up and went to the door. Opening it, he saw the tray on the floor. He had to admit that the food smelled good. He picked up the tray and brought it into his room. He sat down on the bed with the tray in his lap, and examined what Kirsten had brought him. There was a large glass of milk (Kirsten was big on him and Seth drinking milk). The dinner plate held two braised, boneless chicken breasts, spinach souffle, baby carrots, and a whole-wheat roll with a pat of butter next to it. For dessert, there was a slice of chocolate mousse pie.   
  
It struck Ryan that Kirsten must have purposely cooked the spinach souffle and defrosted the chocolate mousse pie because she knew that they were two of his favorites. He realized, not for the first time, that Kirsten was really a very kind person. They all were. Despite the circumstances that brought it about, he knew he was really lucky to have landed in this family.  
  
Picking up his knife and fork, Ryan began to eat. He was surprised to see how much of the food he was able to get down. When he had finished, he sat the tray on his dresser. He debated for a moment going downstairs. Part of him wanted to, but another part couldn't bear to have the family's sympathy right now. He didn't think he could hold it together if they started telling him how sorry they were, all the while fixing him with sad looks.  
  
Suddenly, Ryan realized that he had homework for tomorrow that he hadn't done, and his backpack was still downstairs. His first reaction was gotta do the homework, and then he actually laughed out loud at himself. His homework couldn't matter less right now.  
  
----+----  
  
At about 9:00 Ryan walked downstairs and into the family room. To his surprise, all three Cohens were there (normally, by this time, unless he and Seth were playing a videogame, his friend was ensconced in front of the computer upstairs). Sandy and Kirsten were seated side-by-side on the sofa, and Seth was down on the floor, sitting indian-style. They were watching TV. As the family became aware of Ryan's presence, their eyes turned to him. Sandy sat up straighter on the couch, and Kirsten got to her feet.   
  
I, I just wanted to let you know that I'm fine, and I'm going to bed now, Ryan said.  
  
Before he could effect his escape, Kirsten walked over, and said softly, We're so sorry, Ryan.   
  
He nodded, but didn't trust himself to speak. Kirsten took a slow step forward, wrapped her arms around him, and gave him a gentle hug. She only held him for a few seconds, then stepped back. She could see that Ryan was trying to blink away tears, and her heart ached for this boy who'd become a part of their lives by happenstance, and who had already been dealt so many painful blows by life.   
  
Without another word, Ryan turned and headed for the stairs.  
  
The next morning, Ryan was downstairs at his normal time. He was just starting on a bowl of cereal when Seth came in.   
  
Hey, man, Seth said.  
  
Ryan replied.  
  
You know, you don't have to go to school today, Ryan. Mom and Dad were talking about it last night.  
  
Ryan shrugged.  
  
A few minutes later, Kirsten walked in and gave him a gentle good morning. Ryan found himself thinking that being around Kirsten was going to be tough for the next few days. She also said that he wasn't expected to go to school today, and he didn't argue. Not long after that, Sandy made his appearance, and the next several minutes were taken up with the hustle and bustle of everyone getting their breakfast.   
  
As Sandy and Seth started to head out the door, Ryan realized that Kirsten was intending to work from home today. He would have really rathered she'd gone to work, but didn't feel like he could say that. So after Sandy and Seth had left, he excused himself, and walked into the family room. Grabbing the remote, he threw himself down on the couch, and turned on the TV. He channel-surfed for a while. Not that he cared what was on, but it was habit, and it gave him something to do. Eventually, he left the TV on ESPN, and settled back to watch a soccer match.  
  
A couple hours later, Ryan walked into the kitchen to get a drink, and found Kirsten sitting at the table with a cup in her hand. Tea break, she said with a smile. Ryan smiled back.  
  
You want some? she asked. It's Darjeeling.  
  
Okay, thanks.  
  
Kirsten started to get up, but Ryan said, No, I can get it.  
  
Ryan went to the cabinet and retrieved a cup, then walked over to the stove, and poured himself a cup of tea. He grabbed a couple packets of sweetener and a spoon, and came back to the table. He sat down, added the sweetener and began to stir his tea slowly.   
  
Kirsten didn't say anything, at first, just let Ryan drink his tea in peace. But after a few minutes, she said, You know, Ryan, it might help if you could talk about your brother.... Tell me about Trey. What was he like?  
  
Ryan didn't immediately respond. When he did, he said, Trey, Trey was one of those people who could never sit still for two minutes at a time. It used to drive our dad nuts. He half-smiled, then turned sober again. He had a mean temper, and he'd turn on you in a second if he thought you were being disloyal to him.... He liked trouble, and had a fondness for other people's property that landed him in jail one time too many.   
  
Ryan paused, as the awful truth of this last statement hit him. It took him a few seconds to recover.   
  
When he continued, his voice was thick with feeling. Trey used to try to protect me from Dad when he was crazy-drunk. He didn't always succeed, but he tried. He gave me piggy-back rides when I was little and taught me how to play Go Fish.... He was always my big brother, even when he was calling me names or beating the tar out of me.  
  
At these last words, Ryan's eyes grew wet, and Kirsten watched as the teen's face began to crumple. He struggled manfully to get out one last sentence. He was my brother, and I loved him, and now he's gone.  
  
With that, Ryan gave into the wave of emotion that had been threatening to overtake him. Kirsten's own eyes were damp, and she had a lump in her throat. She stood up and walked over to the grieving boy. She laid gentle hands on his head, and pulled his unresisting body to hers, stroking his hair, and making soft, soothing, motherly sounds.   
  
They stayed in that position for some time, until at last Ryan quieted. He pulled away from Kirsten, and wiped awkwardly at his eyes. Strangely, he didn't feel embarrassed that she had seen him break down like this. He didn't understand why, and didn't try to analyze it. He just knew that it had felt good to be held in her arms and comforted like a child. For that small space of time it had felt like he had a mother again. And despite his pain, that had been a nice feeling.  
  
----+----  
  
The Cohens and Ryan walked into the house. The funeral was over. It had been a small affair. Ryan and Dawn had tried to contact some of Trey's friends, but had been largely unsuccessful. And the Atwoods didn't have any extended family in the area. So it had been Ryan and his mother, the Cohens, and only six or seven other people. Ryan's mom had been a wreck, and he'd done his best to comfort her. Thankfully, the ceremony at the chapel had been short and simple, and the graveside service even shorter. Ryan was glad it was all over and they were back home again.  
  
As Sandy closed the front door behind them, Kirsten asked, Well...is anybody hungry? I could make sandwiches?  
  
I could eat, replied her son.  
  
said Sandy.  
  
Kirsten looked at Ryan expectantly.   
  
  
  
They moved into the kitchen. The men helped themselves to beverages, while Kirsten set about preparing turkey and roast beef sandwiches. Seth began teasing his mother about how she could never remember what he liked on his sandwich, and soon Sandy joined in the gentle ribbing. Ryan observed the interplay between the three, simply enjoying the moment. Watching this family who meant so much to each other and who were growing to mean more to him every day filled him with a sense of peaceful contentment.  
  
The End  
  



End file.
